


Acting Everyday

by sarah_dude



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mentions of Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_dude/pseuds/sarah_dude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie gets yet another rejection in her professional life, but no such rejection in her personal life.</p><p>Broadway Prompt for Cartinelli Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acting Everyday

“What on _Earth_ happened here?”

Angie looked up tiredly from the floor, where she was slumped amongst the broken glass.

“I’m sorry Peggy, I’ll clear it up in a bit.”

It was a pitiful sight; Angie sat with wet and red-rimmed eyes and a quivering lip in the middle of the absolute devastation of Peggy’s favourite liquor glasses.

Peggy surveyed the damage. “Are you ok?”

She stepped closer, trying not to outwardly grimace at the sensation and sound of glass cracking underfoot. Steadily Peggy worked her way into the centre of the kitchen, closer to where Angie sat morosely.

“No.” Angie muttered, “No, I am not ok. I bet I won’t get a call back and all because of the fact that I didn’t go back stage into that lousy director’s offer and didn’t get down on my lousy knees.”

Peggy hated this area of Angie’s passion, she’d heard Angie retell countless stories of directors trying to put their hands places where they didn’t belong, and it made her blood boil.

“You can’t be serious?”

She wondered if the man would be working tonight, it would be an easy case of breaking and entering with a bit of physical confrontation. She could make sure Angie was guaranteed a call back and make sure no woman had to face such a decision in the future. Maybe break a bone or two, just for fun.

She was cut short from her musings as Angie turned an empty stare at her. “I wish,” she sighed, “And to top it all off, my expressing rage made me bleed.” She stuck out her bottom lip along with her foot, which Peggy could now see was bleeding quite badly. “Ma always said my temper would just end up hurting more than it helped.”

“Jesus Angie, why didn’t you say something?” She dropped her bag and keys on the countertop and threw her coat over the remaining glass shards, kneeling awkwardly to pick Angie up off the floor.

Angie grunted in pain. “I just did.”

“Ha ha.” Peggy shot back, taking Angie’s entire weight and lifting her with relative ease off the floor. She tried not to jostle Angie too much as she shifted her arms around and under her legs, until she was holding her bridal style.

“Geez Peg,” Angie muttering jokingly, but still put her hand on her chest in a swoon. “Way to woo a girl, arms like these.”

Peggy laughed and stepped through the remaining mess and made her way effortlessly to the nearest bathroom, where she gently deposited Angie onto the edge of the cool bathtub.

“Must be all of those call transfers I put through.”

Angie tilted her head. “Hmmm, that must be it.”

Peggy bent down and carefully cradled Angie’s foot in her palm while she surveyed how bad the cut was. It looked worse than it was, a small but deep cut that continued to bleed as Peggy wiped away what blood had been there. There was a small shard of glass still stuck in the wound and as Peggy ran a towel over it, Angie winced.

“Sorry…” Peggy muttered, standing up to open the medicine cupboard, and fumbling around till she found the bottle of clear liquid she was looking for and a pair of tweezers, thankful for countless nights of experience she had with stitching her own body up with nothing but the pick ‘n’ mix contents of a cupboard. 

“This will sting a little.” At Angie’s small nod of understanding, Peggy poured the antiseptic on the cut and then looked up with worry as she heard a sniffle.

She balked, Angie was crying. She awkwardly patted the side of Angie’s leg, leaving a smudge of blood behind on the hem of Angie’s dress.

“Sorry I can’t help with the pain-”

“Damn,” Angie’s voice wavered, “No, it’s not that Peggy. What if I never make it on stage? I don’t wanna be a waitress for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, Angie.” Peggy sighed. She grasped Angie’s chin and made sure she was looking down at her when she spoke. “Your name will be up in lights soon.” She carefully pulled the rest of the glass out of Angie’s foot and quickly pressed a towel against the bleeding. “I know it, just you wait. When it happens Broadway won't have a clue what’s hit it.”

She absentmindedly stroked the soft skin of Angie’s ankle, circling the delicate anklebone with her thumb.

“Y’know.” Angie started and Peggy looked up from her crouched position. “Broadway’s got nothing on the performance I give every day.”

Peggy frowned. 

She watched Angie shift on what had to be the uncomfortable rim of the bathtub, gathering courage. “Pretending I don’t care, when I do.” 

Peggy seemed confused. “Well now, I don't think anyone expects you to take every rejection as well as you normally do...I expect being upset is quite normal actually.”

Angie shot her a significant look. “What I’m _trying_ to say Peg, is that Broadway ain’t got nothing on the role I play everyday with _you_.”

“How do you mean?” She stood up and placed the bloody towel in the sink and washed her hands.

“Pretending like I’m not in love with you.” Peggy swung round, splattering tiny diluted drops of blood on the tiles.

“I beg your pardon?”

Angie shrugged. “I’m tired of lying to myself. The act’s getting old if you ask me.” She stood with a grimace; testing how much weight her foot could actually take. She took a faltering step forward and buckled slightly, grateful for Peggy’s hands that held her immediately.

“Let’s face it, most of what we tell other people about who we are and what we do is an act.” Angie leveled Peggy with a look, “Miss Phone Operator.”

Peggy felt a hot blush hit the back of her neck and prayed it wasn’t entirely obvious.

“And I also got to face that I’m not going to get over you any time soon.” She sighed dramatically with a rueful grin. “As much as I’ve tried mind you, so I’m guessing I should probably leave my best performance for the stage.”

Peggy stood stunned, holding Angie’s weight, with her head reeling with information of a rather unspectacular declaration of love.

“So what d’ya say?” Angie said, “Could be the blood loss…”

“Oh don’t be silly, you haven’t bled nearly enough for that.” Peggy cut in. “And speaking of, we should get you laying down somewhere.”

Angie giggled high and light. “Wow Peg, you English gals sure move fast.”

Peggy just glared.

“So I’m guessing you’re not adverse to the idea…”

Peggy cleared her throat. “Well. No. I agree, I suppose if I want to see you pretend to be something and someone you’re not, I’ll pay good money to do so.”

“Well,” Angie said. “That appears to be sorted then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Fictorium for looking over the start of this! Written for Cartinelli Week, Day One: 'Broadway'. Hopefully this is ok.
> 
> Half is completely un-betaed, so if you notice mistakes feel free to point them out!


End file.
